


Armour

by ExpressAndAdmirable



Series: The Heroes of Light [18]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Final Fantasy I
Genre: Drow, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, Happy Sex, Sexual Content, Tiefling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 04:58:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13159767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExpressAndAdmirable/pseuds/ExpressAndAdmirable
Summary: It takes nearly dying to get her to do it, but Sol finally confirms her feelings for Lux (partially adapted from an RP session).





	Armour

“I realised a few things today.” Sol stood as she spoke, unwrapping the last ties of her gambeson. The rest of her armour sat in a carefully arranged pile on the rock between them, removed piece by piece until all that remained were her underlayers.

“Certain-death experiences will do that, or so I’ve learned.” Aviva finished her cigarette and extinguished the ember between her flame-resistant fingers, watching Sol curiously as she followed her to her feet. Clearly the Drow had some things to say, and she was not going to distract from her rare moment of candor.

“I’ve had a few of those; it’s not so much that.” Sol rolled the gambeson off her shoulders, testing the ground with her boot and tossing the leather down when she found a suitable spot. “This recent one stands out, though.” She nudged the gambeson with her toe until it was completely spread out before them. “When we spoke in the woods, I told you there were things I wanted to say when I was myself.” Finally, she met Aviva’s eye, a soft half-smile playing at her lips. “I’m yours. And it feels too good to hide it, or save it for moments before death.” She took a breath and said it again. “I’m yours.”

It took Aviva a few beats to process what she had just heard. Sol was hers. Sol _wanted_ to be hers. Sol, armoured and guarded and ever hesitant, now looked at her with unflinching certainty and said something she had never truly expected to hear from anyone. She blinked, feeling her breath catch in her throat as the full reality of it settled in her mind. “I…” She had no words. Instead, she leaned forward and kissed the Drow, delicate but as sure as she had ever been. When it broke, she smiled, her cheeks flushing in the humid night. “Yes. I very much like not waiting for death.”

In what could have been their last moments alive, trapped in an ancient room as the spiked ceiling descended above them, Sol had kissed her, fully and truly. It had certainly achieved its goal; Aviva had been so shocked by the action she simply didn’t have room for fear. It was only later that she had begun to realise the full implications of that kiss. They could have died, then. Now, because of that, Sol was ready to live.

Sol smoothed her hands over Aviva’s cheeks, her fingers threading into the Tiefling’s braided hair and keeping her close. Aviva slipped her illustrated arms gently around Sol’s waist and ducked her forehead slightly as the Drow rose on tiptoe to meet it, their eyes never closing. “Then I’m yours,” Sol said again, her voice soft and clear. “And you are mine.”

“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Aviva repeated with a small nod, her forehead brushing Sol’s. And so she was. She breathed out a sigh that was almost a laugh, revelling in how the words felt in the air as Sol’s eyes closed in contentment. All thoughts of destiny and mission faded. The rest of existence could wait. This moment, here, now, in the middle of an ancient ruin in the depths of a swamp at the twilight of the world: this was real.

Still laughing, she pressed her lips to Sol’s, her embrace tightening. She could happily have existed forever in this liminal space, the heat of the night mixing with the rare warmth of Sol’s unarmoured body against hers. But Sol quickly made her intentions clear, deepening the kiss with a barely restrained fervor that ignited another aching heat deep within her core. Sol stepped back, tugging her hand as she sank onto the gambeson at their feet. Her voice was quick, quiet. “I’m glad I have my own mouth back.”

Aviva followed her onto the gambeson, her own voice low. “I’m glad I have the rest of you back.” Somewhere in the back of her mind she deeply appreciated the metaphors inherent in Sol removing the pieces of her armour as she had spoken of her heart, in using the discarded trappings of war as their bed. Ever the soldier. But those were songs for another time. This was to be a duet, a harmony. A union.

Sol balanced on her knees as Aviva’s lips met hers again, and the Tiefling found herself guided backwards onto the soft, worn leather of the gambeson. She kicked off her boots, instantly forgetting them as they vanished into the expanse of everything that wasn’t Sol. The Drow parted her thighs with a knee and pressed forward carefully, and she gasped through the kiss when it made contact. She exhaled a slow, shuddering breath as the sensation rolled through her body, opening her eyes just enough to smile at the woman above her and nod very slightly. _Yes._

Sliding her hands up Sol’s arms while the Drow undid the ties of her vest, Aviva’s fingers traced the hard curves of muscle under slate-grey skin. The gentle deliberateness of Sol’s movements surprised her, as if she was something fragile that needed to be protected. She had never before been treated like a treasure; it was not a feeling she could easily describe. She let Sol pull her up just far enough to slip the leather from her shoulders, the sudden increase in pressure between her thighs eliciting another sharp gasp. In response she tugged the hem of Sol’s tunic as far upward as she could reach before the Drow obliged her, pulling the garment over her head and discarding it on the ground.

They paused, each taking in the view of the other. Sol was elegant in her way, raw power honed through years of discipline, and to Aviva she had never been so breathtakingly beautiful. The way Sol gazed at the Tiefling made _her_ feel beautiful as well, as if she truly might be a treasure worth protecting. Sol’s blue eyes focused on the tattoo on Aviva’s sternum, a series of Infernal symbols almost hidden between her breasts, and she leaned down to place a featherlight kiss on the swirling ink. Aviva smiled again. _‘The sacred from the profane.’ Fitting._

Aviva arched her back as Sol’s fingers moved reverently across her skin, closing her eyes and letting a soft moan escape her lips. She marvelled at the tenderness of Sol’s touch, how hands that had dealt so much death could make her feel so exquisitely alive. Then Sol’s tongue found her breast and she could think of nothing but that, a white-hot pinprick that made her entire body tense. _Gods._ She moaned again, her fingers curling around one of Sol’s long braids. Another moment she wished could last forever.

But Sol had other plans. She whimpered in protest as Sol drew back and shifted, and the Drow chuckled softly. She felt strong hands hook into the waist of her trousers and nodded emphatically, her pulse quickening. The thick night air played at her thighs, then the tips of Sol’s perfect fingers, then–

_Ohh._ A long, low moan, almost a purr, rumbled in the back of her throat. She breathed slowly, deeply, keeping pace with Sol, every breath slightly quicker than the last. Time seemed to lengthen and bend, each tiny movement of Sol’s tongue sending new ripples through her body. Her mind raced as Sol circled closer and closer to her goal, quiet breath giving way to strangled cries. She bit her lip to keep from screaming, still dimly aware of their companions resting in the shell of a nearby building, but it only served to heighten the anticipation. Her fingers, clawing at the gambeson beneath her, happened upon Sol’s hand and gripped it tightly, nails digging into the flesh of Sol’s wrist. She cursed, moaned, called Sol’s true name through her teeth. She would not scream.

Sol found what she sought. Aviva screamed.

Her grip on Sol’s hand loosened as her body began to relax. For a time she simply lay there, panting, feeling her faculties return; when she opened her eyes, Sol had straightened and was smiling down at her. She crooked a lazy finger in invitation and Sol’s smile broadened as she bent to kiss her. She caressed the scar on Sol’s cheek, then broke from her with a wolfish grin and, to Sol’s surprise, moved out from underneath the Drow and flipped her onto her back in one smooth motion. Sol looked suitably impressed, which pleased her more than she expected. She paused, searching Sol’s face for permission, and grinned again when Sol nodded. Sol was steady as the earth, but Aviva was fire and she would not burn alone.

Brusquely dispensing with what remained of Sol’s clothing, Aviva kissed her lips, her neck, the curve of her collarbone, one hand trailing down her body until she heard a gasp. Sol shivered against her touch, long sighs steadily quickening as she increased her tempo. Sol murmured something in Elvish, and while she could not understand every word, the tone and intention were clear. She knew what Sol wanted. With a final press of her fingers, she shifted positions, kissing her way meticulously down Sol’s belly until she reached her parted legs.

Words tumbled from Sol’s mouth, an unbroken string of semi-coherent Elvish containing some instantly recognisable curses and high praise for bardic mouths. Then there were no more words, only quick, ragged breathing. She slowed, feeling Sol come desperately close to her peak, and enjoyed the tortured sound Sol made before giving her what she needed. Everything about Sol tensed, suspended in space; finally, with a single, clear cry, she collapsed breathlessly onto the gambeson.

Aviva rested her head delicately on Sol’s chest as she curled against the Drow’s side, listening to her heartbeat as it gradually slowed to its regular pace. Her hand found Sol’s and she threaded their fingers together, taking a few long moments to appreciate the sounds of heartbeat and breath and the warm night around them.

Her Sol, her Haluei’en, her sunshine. No more armour. This was real.

**Author's Note:**

> Title song by Golden Fable.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr at @expressandadmirable for a proper table of contents for the Heroes campaign, commissioned character art, text-based roleplay snippets and more!


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